


I Feel The Fever Grow

by xGlitterBabyx (MysticSorcha)



Series: Glam-100 Drabbles [6]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Sequence, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticSorcha/pseuds/xGlitterBabyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drake doesnt understand why Adam chooses songs that don't "suit" him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Feel The Fever Grow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sorta prequel to the one I wrote last night. That Adam/Drake dynamic wouldn’t leave me alone!!! Thank you to nina_in_technicolor for the once-over!!!!
> 
> PROMPT #36: STEEL TO MY TREMBLING LIPS

"I don't know why you insist on singing that shitty song, Adam. It does nothing for your talent."   
  
Adam groaned, closing his eyes and counted to three in his head. He couldn't snap now, he couldn't. People were entitled to their own opinion and Drake was just stating his own.   
  
No harm, no foul, right?   
  
"Why are you ignoring me, Adam?" Drake’s voice was starting to grate on Adam's skin. It felt like he wanted to push Adam's buttons on purpose. Drake knew how much the music meant to him.   
  
Or he was supposed to.   
  
***   
  
"Because, honey, the song speaks to me. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks." He tried to keep the condescending tone out of his voice, he really did.   
  
Scoffing, Drake looked at him over his easel. "You know that's complete bullshit, right? You heard the judges all those weeks on Idol--"   
  
"And the thing I learned  was to keep doing my own thing as long as i'm committed. You didn't hear everything they said--especially off camera. You just watched at home, sitting on your goddamned ass." Adam slammed his notepad on the coffee table and stood up.    
  
***   
  
"Why don't you stick to your painting and I'll take care of the singing, yeah?" He stormed out and headed toward their bedroom, slamming the door. How  dare Drake act like he knows anything about music?   
  
Hurt and wounded, Adam flopped on his side of the bed, tears forming quickly behind his lids. He didn’t know how much more he could take it.    
  
It was a vicious whirlpool that kept him just on the edge, but not letting him out.   
  
A knock echoed across the room, before the door opened. “Hey, I’m sorry, baby...I love you, ‘kay?”   
  
***   
  
Adam could only nod weakly, but refused to open his eyes. After a second, he felt the bed dip next to him and the smell of acrylic paint wafted over him.    
  
Strong hands rubbed over Adam’s back, releasing the tension in his muscles. “I love you, too.”   
  
Drake laid an arm over his waist, pulling him into his small frame. “I was just trying to be honest, I know you like honesty.”   
  
“I understand, but I also need your support.”   
  
Groaning, Drake sighed. “Let’s not argue tonight. Just relax and forget about it.”   
  
Adam nodded, snuggling in--he could do that.


End file.
